Harry Potter and the Primal Court
by SkoripiElda
Summary: Harry is a child touched by Destiny, as such it is Death's job to personally collect him when his sands run out... which leads to Death being present on that fateful Halloween. Probably oneshot.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. If I did... I'd probably have better things to do than sue people who write fanfiction.

\\\ /I\\\/

Death stood, silently watching. His cloak was wrapped tightly against his body as though to stave off the cold, but the room he was in; the atrium for St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, was warm. A fireplace flickered into life before the flames turned emerald green and two figures stepped out, a man with a shock of untameable black hair and a woman with smooth auburn tresses. The man supported the woman with her arm slung over his shoulders as she was clearly heavily pregnant. Death ignored them. They ignored him, even as they walked right through him. The woman moaned as she passed and the man spoke quietly to her, desperation evident.

"Come on Lily, nearly there. Just hold on for a few minutes!"

Death ignored them. He was waiting. There would be a death here. One of the significant ones. He pulled out the hourglass again. It was no run of the mill soul timer. This was the time of someone of 'import'; someone who _could_ , with the right motivation, make something great with their lives. One of Deaths personal collection and therefore on his personal 'collection' duty. The sands had nearly run their course. He slipped the hourglass onto the chain around his neck and allowed it to lead him through the hospital. It whispered him up a single stairway and along a corridor, until he stopped at a wooden door. It was marked _'The "dangerous" Dai Llewellyn ward'._ Death, had he had a face, would have smiled softly to himself. He remembered Dai somewhat fondly. There was a man who had grabbed Destiny by the robe and hadn't let go. It had nearly been a shame to finally claim him.

There was a single man in the beds inside of the room. He was not an old man. Death sighed to himself.

 **So much wasted potential. I do hate it when they die young.**

His voice, if it could be called such, was the sound of wind blowing through a field of bones, coffin lids slamming shut, the slow munching of a thousand maggots and the steady drip of ichor. Death concentrated for a moment on the man in the bed, and then reaped him. Death's personal hourglasses showed people who could do great things with their lives.

 **At least you lived a full life. Not many can say that they tickled a sleeping a dragon.**

Not everyone took Destiny up on her offer. The man, or what was left of the man, looked up at him.

"Ah. So I'm dead then?"

 **You are.**

"Oh dear."

 **Quite. There is a reason not many can say that they have tickled a sleeping a dragon.**

"Oh well. You live and learn I suppose."

 **No. You don't...**

Death turned and left. The hourglass, unusually, didn't vanish. It started leading him again.

 **Oh? A new child of Destiny, so soon?**

Death, if he'd had anyone to convey emotion to, would have been showing an almost eager interest as he followed the insistent whispers to the maternity ward. Children who were truly touched by Destiny were rare enough that this was nearly a new experience for Death. To his surprise, the hourglass led him to the couple who had walked through him downstairs. He focused on them.

Lily and James Potter. They were having... a son.

Death held the hourglass up as a new pair of lungs, working full bore, came into life. Sand started trickling into the hourglass in front of his skeletal face. After a few seconds, Death gave it a little shake, before turning his gaze back to the latest Child of Destiny. He sighed softly. There was a minuscule amount of sand, barely enough for two years of life, if that. The soul timer vanished back into his voluminous robes.

 **I do _hate_ it when they die young.**

Harry Potter looked up at Death. For a split second, emerald eyes locked with blue sparks, before Death was gone and swiftly forgotten.

/I\\\

Death pulled the soul timer from his robes and stared at the swirling seconds as they fell. He stood from his resting place in the Beyond and the scenery vanished, replaced by a white fog. For several seconds, the white was all that he could see before it pulled itself into surroundings, a quaint village. He glanced at the plaque on the nearby fountain.

 _Godric's Hollow, most improved village 1979_

He slipped the hourglass onto the chain around his neck and went to follow where it led. After a single step however, he stopped. He shifted his feet again and felt the stone beneath his bone. He glanced around, taking in the pumpkins, paper ghosts and sweet wrappers scattered around.

 **Of course. Hallow's Eve. Tomorrow I get to celebrate being beaten by three brothers. How... Fun.**

A moment's willpower left him silent, invisible and untouchable, and he followed the soul timer down a street and off onto a small lane. He was just in time to see someone very familiar blast the door off it's hinges and enter the house.

Death pulled a second hourglass from his robes, and glared at it impotently. What had once been a normal soul timer was now misshapen, malformed with five large bubbles protruding from the top section, each with a section of sand being held in stasis. The rest of the sand was very firmly in the lower half of the glass. Death spent a few seconds thinking bad things about horcruxes and those who make them before depositing Tom Riddle's timer back into one of his pockets and following him into the house. He arrived just in time to see the father cut down by a killing curse to the ribs. Death stopped for a second while Riddle swept onwards. _It would only be polite. I am here for his son, after all._

With a quick swipe, Death reaped him and walked up the stairs. He walked slowly, not in any rush, and when he reached the nursery, he bent and reaped the mother while Riddle was busy taunting a baby that could barely speak.

Death could feel the energy in the air, the sick perversion of the power of the soul timers. He growled at Riddle, pulling his hourglass back out. He could already see the glass bubbling and deforming even further. Death strode to between the two people in the room, and prepared himself to reap the baby. Riddle finally reached the end of his soliloquy, and pointed his wand. The last few seconds in Harry's hourglass trickled away.

"Avada Kedavra!"

The spell shot from the wand, impacted on the child's forehead and bounced off with a flash of light. Death gaped for a split second as the wild spell ricochet through the two hourglasses, refracting oddly, before impacting it's caster. Riddle's body disintegrated, and the magical backlash levelled the second story of the house. Death blinked in confusion, turning to Harry's hourglass, which should have been empty. He let out a long groan before raising his voice.

 **DESTINY!**

There was a pop of displacement and a second figure stood in the ruins with death, a girl in grey robes with bandages across her eyes and a heavy book under one arm.

 _What? What did I do?_

Her voice, unlike Death's, did not even attempt to model itself on mortal understanding. It bypassed your ears and wrote itself in great big letters across the forefront of your brain.

Death simply pointed at Harry's hourglasses. The bottom half had shrunk drastically. It was so small in fact, that despite being totally full there was a small sliver of seconds above the neck of the glass. Death gave it a half hearted shake.

 _Ah. Well. That's unusual._

 **Unusual?**

 _Well, I've never seen it before. That's certainly unusual._

 **Check your book**

Destiny flipped open the large tome and started flicking through the pages. After a few seconds, she stopped and flicked back. Then forwards again. Then she closed the book with a snap and a frown.

 _Nothing. Who's that timer for, anyway?_

 **The child.**

 _What child?_

Death pointed at the crib in which Harry sat, quiet and still.

 _What child, Death?_

Death stopped. He stared at the child, then at Destiny.

 **Check your book for 'Harry Potter'**

after a few seconds of flipping back and forth, Destiny frowned.

 _Nothing. Again._

Death couldn't help but snigger.

 **Destiny, dearest sister. You didn't go and put a prophesy on Ignotus' last heir did you? The one who would own my cloak?**

Destiny stilled for a second.

 _Oh Void above._

Death sighed and looked at Harry, before cancelling the glamours that hid him, necessary on Hallow's eve.

 **Well child, it looks like you're coming with us.**

When Sirius Black burst into the nursery a few minutes later, he found it empty but for the corpse of Lily potter, and the earthly possessions of the Dark Lord

/I\\\

Chaos reigned in the amphitheatre of the Primal Court. He banged his gravel several times trying to restore Order, who was currently being drowned out by hundreds of other voices. One final smack of the hammer and the entities gathered quieted slightly. Order spoke up

"Chaos. Thank you. I must know. What has happened here? Why have we been called? Death said something about a prophesy. I fail to see my business here."

Chaos spoke up, having been briefed on the situation, ::A good point. Yes. There have been Complications. Happenings. Someone took themselves from Destiny. A young boy, Harry, now exists out of Fate. Outside Death. We must decide what to do."

War spoke next, the clash of battle and drip of blood echoing from his iron clad frame.

IT IS DEATH AND DESTINY'S PROBLEM, NOT OURS. LET THEM SHOULDER THEIR OWN BURDEN.

His words were met with a smattering of approving applause from the beings gathered.

Famine raised his voice.

Where Is The Child?

Chaos responded, "He is here. Here. Death took him in. Confusing. He still holds the babe."

Order levelled his own judgement. "Well. It's obvious. Death takes him. Death takes the child. It is not our problem. 'Harry' can be raised by Death."

There were more mutterings of approval, and Chaos nodded.

"What say you? Death?"

Death stood, with the small bundle that was Harry Potter held in one skeletal arm.

 **On one condition.**

Seeing that the assembled primal forces were willing to listen, Death looked down at the little lightning scarred head in his arms.

 **He is free to come and go from our world as he wishes. I will raise him. I will not steal him from his world. He is, after all, touched by Destiny, even if she can no longer see his path.**

The gavel banged as those assembled at the Primal Court accepted.

\\\/I\\\/

So here we go. Not sure if I'll do anything more with this, but if I do then it will be a slightly different Harry Potter that makes his way to Hogwarts!

If you like it, a review makes me feel all tingly and warm in a way that would probably require a doll to explain in court.


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